


Singing The Songs Of Sherwood

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor returned Marian to Robin Hood, they are delighted to be reunited. Marian is grateful for her freedom, for Robin, for her friends, for how they can help those who are needy even though the fight never seems to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing The Songs Of Sherwood

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the Twelfth Doctor episode 'Robot of Sherwood.'

 

 

 

There were many celebrations that night. Robin laughed and it was like hearing heavenly trumpets. Marian did not stray far from his side. Oh, she hugged each of the Merry Men, so glad to see their cheerful happy faces. She thanked Friar Tuck for his prayers and told him that she had prayed every night, determined to believe that she would one day find a way out of her manacles, beyond the castle walls and home again.

 

“The Lord provided indeed,” Friar Tuck remarked.

 

“He did, Father.”

 

Marian could not stop smiling. She drank and ate heartily, better than she had done in months. Robin kept pressing food into her hands; delicious pieces of cooked venison, ripe fruits and nuts, bread from the nearest village. It pleased him to see what she had not fallen sick, that she had not been so greatly harmed that her appetite had been lost. It pleased Marian to feel her belly full again. Even when she and other slaves had been given food, she had given at least half of hers away to those who had been weaker and more needful.

 

She paused, a morsel of bread close to her lips. Robin noticed soon enough and crowded close, his breath sweet on her face. Marian drank him in, his scent, his appearance, his very presence. His concern did not waver.

 

“Marian?”

 

Marian dropped her hand, the bread uneaten. “There were many enslaved with me, doing the Sheriff's biding without sleep and with barely any nourishment.”

 

“Ah,” Robin immediately grasped her reticence. His hand folded around hers, around fingers that still clenched bread. “And too many of them will return home full of heart but without such a feast as this awaiting them.”

 

Marian nodded, thinking of people she had seen die, of children she had witnessed shake and starve, the desperation and despair. Oh, how she wished that she possessed the Doctor's magical vessel. For then she would fill its corridors with food and drink and ensure that all who had been crushed beneath the Sheriff's false feet would not starve another night. She would attempt to wipe away every tear and terrible memory but not even magic could achieve such a miracle. Such things were God's purview alone, such things not even time could decay.

 

Robin's kiss greeted her brow, “Rest will consume them tonight. Tomorrow, the people of Sherwood and Nottingham shall feast like kings!”

 

The Merry Men cheered. Marian raised her head and kissed Robin, enjoying the very texture of him, the luxury of being able to enjoy his closeness, his kindness and his selfless determination once more. She had often dreamed of him, of his familiar loving touch and of the smile that he'd always saved only for her. Now they were reunited once more, it felt so much like a dream after the forever-dark and constant work and chains of Nottingham Castle.

 

Marian took a deep breath and Robin kissed her again. Alan was halfway through a song, fingers skilfully strumming the strings of his lute. Will and Little John inserted words which didn't fit or that simply made them laugh amid Alan's laughing singing. The others were enjoying the sunlight, enjoying the victory. Marian's heart felt light as she watched her friends, her family. She positioned herself against Robin, his arms encircling her, his breath soft against her neck.

 

She closed her eyes and drank it all in, the sun's warmth on her skin and Robin's touch, the long-held promises made to help those so desperately in need, the new calluses on Robin's hands, convincing her that she was not dreaming any more.

 

*

 

Later, the night upon them, Robin and Marian retreated to a nearby stream, the moon's rays dappling the beauty of Sherwood. Marian breathed it in; having her freedom stolen from her had reminded her of how much she had gained by Robin's side. Here was fresh air, almost plentiful food, wonderful warm company, and love not decided by titles or wealth. Here was simple wonderful happiness.

 

She smiled down at the stream. How often she had recently longed to scrub the stench of the Sheriff and his castle from her body. How inviting the stream looked, its music enveloping her. Impulsively, and with a wide almost giddy smile, Marian hitched up her skirts and stepped down into the water. Robin's laughter echoed behind her as the cool bubbling stream giggled over her feet and ankles. It was bracing, cleansing and a reminder that she was not dreaming indeed. Soon the smell of her captivity would fade even if her memories would not. She was free.

 

“Is this how you choose to celebrate, my love? As a fish?”

 

“I choose to celebrate, my love, with you.”

 

Robin's laughing expression melted into one of pure adoration that stirred so much warmth and love under Marian's skin. She held out a hand and intertwined their fingers, she in the water and he on land. She didn't feel cold.

 

Robin looked so beautiful – already a man that minstrels sang songs about, songs that would echo down the years, coalescing into a stirring legend. What a bequeathment. Marian had felt such joy when Robin had revealed what he had learned of his own future, foretold by both the Doctor and Clara.

 

Marian and Robin stared at each other, oh Marian had been without his touch, without the very sight of him, for too long. Such love surged through her and she smiled, breaking the heavy silence.

 

“Here we are, a gift from the Doctor.”

 

“Ah, the knave himself,” Robin drew closer to the bank's edge, still holding her hand. “With great powers as though lent from heaven itself, though I doubt him an angel.”

 

Marian smiled in agreement. The Doctor had been harsh and impatient of word but his deeds had spoken greatly of what a man he truly was. He had broken the Sheriff's grip on Nottingham, crushing a malignant evil, reuniting Marian and Robin. They had much to thank him for.

 

And yet...

 

“Clara told me that she and the Doctor often battle such terrible things, he has been fighting for so many years without end. Like you, my love - another Sheriff will arrive here in time, without metal men at his command and without the Doctor at his heels.”

 

The fight continued. This had been a great victory for Alan-a-Dale to sing about, to add to Robin's story. Love and magic had triumphed! The Doctor had insisted that his works were forged of learning and what he called science. But Marian had known what she had seen; the future appeared to be full of magic.

 

Robin kissed her hand, his expression knowing. There was also weariness in his gaze for he too knew that the fight he had chosen was an eternal one and that Robin Hood and his Merry Men could not give up. Marian would never ask him to, she would fight until they were placed side by side in the ground, in the greenwood. For despite the unending strife of the battle, what else could they possibly do with their lives when they knew how greatly Robin's actions comforted and provided for his people? Where else would they spend the hereafter?

 

Where would the Doctor spend it?

 

Such questions were not meant to have answers. Some battles were always meant to be fought, no matter the pain and loss, no matter the constant danger and lack of respite. Robin Hood, the story and the man, were needed. Marian knew that; she only wished sometimes for respite and was deeply glad that she and Robin had each other and their friends, that like the Doctor, they did not ever face their fight alone.

 

“Whoever Prince John sends to rout us, we will be thorns in their sides, an answer to the people's prayers perhaps.”

 

“A song sung through every village.”

 

They smiled at each other, lapsing into silence. Robin was drinking in the sight of Marian as much as she was drinking in him, it was a wonderful feeling. It was love and hope both, it was rejuvenation. The quiet was peaceful and strong between them, the affirmation that they both needed perhaps. Then, without warning, Robin grasped more of her arm and dragged her out of the water, up onto the bank and into his arms. Marian found herself so close to her husband, cradled to his chest, his smile pressed sweetly to hers. Her arms twined around his neck and her hands discovered a familiar chain and locket.

 

She eased back, her heart filling her expression. “You carried me with you.”

 

Robin didn't cast his glance down to the locket that held her portrait, he watched only her face. “Every step that you weren't by my side.”

 

Robin's emotions had never been quiet or hidden, it was one of many reasons why Marian loved him so. Now her heart felt so full, it overflowed with what she felt for him. Not just the bold brave rebel from stories told far and wide, the hero who stood up to sheriffs and soldiers and who dashingly stole gold and taxes for the poor, but also the man who had kissed her every morning and night and every hour in between, who had patiently taught her how to best use knife, sword and staff, the man who comforted widows, played with children and swapped tales with old men. The man she loved as well as the story.

 

“And now.” Robin stepped away from the stream. “Now there are old songs to be sung and new ones to muster, I'll wager.”

 

He smiled down at her with that roguish twinkle in his eye that always made her smile in return. She could hear their friends laughing amid the strum of Alan's lyre and the sounds of Sherwood at twilight – birds nesting, leaves and grass rustling, expectation in the air.

 

Her fingers stayed firmly tangled in the chain around Robin's neck, the locker still resting over his heart. It reminded both of them that she really was home. Robin strode through the forest that he knew so well, to find a spot that would suit them that night. Marian gazed at the greenwood, at Robin, at the stars so hazy and beautiful above them.

 

The Doctor and Clara would travel onward amongst the heavens, continuing their eternal battle, while Robin and Marian would continue theirs, always fighting and forever singing, together.

 

_-the end_


End file.
